Osram Time: 21:35, February 23, 2295

  Great Hall, Outpost Tumi, Zeeman Crater, Far Side, Osram

  The Great Hall of Outpost Tumi buzzed with energy. What had begun as a somber evening—with preparations for the memorial service for the fallen Ologuns Nyathi, Makeba, Khalid, and Abaan—had become something else entirely. The Moondust Crystal fragment had changed everything.

  Jabari sat at one of the long tables, still in his combat fatigues, watching as personnel filtered in from across the outpost. The normally austere hall had been hastily decorated with strands of green and gold light fixtures, the Directorate's colors casting a warm glow across the metal walls.

  "I've never seen this many people in one place," he remarked to Ume, who sat beside him, her synthetic eyes tracking the growing crowd.

  "I count forty-three personnel," she replied matter-of-factly. "According to my calculations, this represents approximately seventy-eight percent of an average Directorate outpost's total complement."

  Jabari chuckled. "That wasn't what I meant, but thank you."

  The center table had been arranged with platters of steaming food. Moon Yams featured prominently — golden-brown buns holding the nutrient-rich root vegetable. Accompanying the yams were dishes of jollof rice with its distinct orange-red hue, egusi soup thick with ground melon seeds, a generous portion of spinach and plantains caramelized to a perfect golden brown.

  Seydou walked in, balancing a tray of dark bottles. "Special occasion calls for special refreshments!" he announced, setting down the tray with a flourish. "Real palm wine from Nigeria! And some South African merlot for the more sophisticated palates." He winked at Wilhelm, who was adjusting his collar at a nearby table.

  "How did you get palm wine all the way to Osram?" Jabari asked incredulously.

  "There's not a supply chain in the Inner Sol I can't hack, Lieutenant," Seydou grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Chairman Kofi's personal shipments are also…particularly well-stocked., in case I haven't told you yet"

  Celine, who had been conversing with Laurent, turned sharply. "Tell me you didn't steal from the Chairman's supplies, Seydou."

  "Steal? Never!" Seydou placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. "Merely... redistributed. Very important for morale, wouldn't you agree, Prince Laurent?"

  Laurent's laugh was warm and rich. "He does need to drink less." He raised a glass. "And tonight, of all nights, we've earned whatever is in these bottles."

  The weight of the Crystal fragment in Jabari's pocket seemed to grow heavier. He'd been instructed not to remove it from his person until they decided what to do with it. The responsibility made him both proud and uneasy.

  Celine approached their table, her eyes bright with excitement at the sight of palm wine. She'd traded her combat robes for a more traditional outfit: a deep green dashiki with intricate gold embroidery that matched the Directorate's colors.

  "To the newest hero of Kimaris," she said, raising her glass toward Jabari. "The man who faced down an ancient Kraken, Hafgrim, and lived to tell the tale."

  "I wasn't alone," Jabari protested, uncomfortable with the spotlight. "We all fought and lived together."

  "Modest, too," Celine said with a wink. "I like that in a junior officer."

  As the evening progressed, the celebration grew louder. Musicians set up in one corner with a blend of traditional instruments. Kalimbas, talking drums and the more modern synthesizers. The music filled the hall with rhythmic melodies, though some songs were sung in languages Jabari did not understand.

  He found himself at the main table, sandwiched between Laurent and Celine, with Ume, Seydou, and Wilhelm across from them. The palm wine flowed freely, its sweet potency completing the Moon Yams just fine, warming and filling.

  "To our fallen brothers," Celine raised her glass, her voice solemn despite the celebration around them. "Nyathi, Makeba, Khalid, and Abaan. They died so we could succeed."

  "May their spirits remain in the Great Void Beyond," Laurent added, his expression momentarily grave.

  "May the Thousand Gods guide their passage," Celine nodded approvingly at Laurent as she added, now looking at Jabari expectantly.

  "And — may their strength fuel our blades as we march forward," Jabari raised his glass in response, reciting with precision. It was the Directorate Space Corps' way of moruning its perished, taught and learned in places like the Cape Coast Prep.

  "Unity. Strength. Directorate." All at the main table said in unison as their glasses clanked together in a crisp sound.

  All except Ume who held her half-eaten Moon Yam, observing.

  "The Directorate's notion of the Thousand Gods is quite a fascinating societal creation." She mused out loud. "According to my research, it emerged as an artificial faith developed by several African leaders hoping to unify the continent's divided people against shared adversaries: Communist China, United States and the Russian Federation. Superpowers that grew increasingly desperate in their quest to gain control over Zephyrium, the essential mineral for cold fusion technology as global oil supplies approached exhaustion. Africa was the one place with the most Zephyrium deposit at that time."

  Celine scoffed, displeased as she placed her glass on the table. "Leave it to the android to ruin the mood."

  Seydou's smile vanished instantly, his eyes darting nervously between Celine and Ume. "Shango's S-s-schlong," he stammered, setting his glass down with a trembling hand. "You just r-r-ruined an entire religion for everyone here. Except Wilhelm, I guess. Well done?"

  The tension around the table thickened, as if someone had sucked all the oxygen from the room. Several nearby conversations fell silent as heads turned toward their table.

  "What she meant was—" Jabari began, trying desperately to smooth things over, "the Thousand Gods represent our diverse heritage, our collective strength as…well…"

  "As a fabricated mythology?!" Celine interrupted, her voice cutting like a blade. "Is that what you think our belief is, android? Some political invention?"

  Ume blinked, her head tilting slightly as she processed the conversation. "Have I said something incorrect? The historical records clearly indicate—"

  "The historical records," Celine said through gritted teeth, "don't account for what we feel in our hearts For what gives people hope when they're bleeding out on foreign soil, or dying defending their home!"

  The silence stretched painfully, with Ume still appearing genuinely confused by the reaction her words had provoked.

  Laurent cleared his throat dramatically. "Speaking of fabrications," he said loudly, "did I ever tell you all about Wilhelm's fabricated story of how he single-handedly defeated a Draconic Engine with nothing but a Plasma Handgun and his 'dazzling good looks'?"

  Wilhelm, catching on immediately, gasped in mock outrage. "That story is completely true! The Imperial siege tank simply couldn't resist my charm offensive!"

  "Oh please," Laurent rolled his eyes theatrically. "The only thing that tank surrendered to was its manufacturing defects. I've seen more charm in a Twiabo's burrow."

  "I'll have you know," Wilhelm countered, rising slightly from his seat, "that I was voted 'Most Likely to Seduce Enemy Hardware' three years running at the Cape Coast Prep!"

  The absurdity of the claim broke the tension, ripples of laughter spreading through the nearby tables. Even Celine's expression softened slightly as she reached for her wine.

  Laurent gave Jabari a subtle nod, crisis averted.

  They drank in silence for a moment. Then Seydou, ever the mood-lightener, launched into a different story.

  "That reminds me. Remember my first disastrous attempt at piloting a Scarab mech? Damned thing just toppled over, right into the Chairman's favorite fountain!" he exclaimed, gesturing wildly. "Water everywhere, ceremonial koi fish flopping on the ground. Absolute chaos, man!"

  Wilhelm nearly choked on his wine. "You never told me that part! No wonder the Chairman gives you that look whenever fountains are mentioned."

  As the night progressed, Jabari noticed Celine growing increasingly animated, her usual military precision giving way to a looser, more relaxed demeanor. Her laughter came easier, her gestures more expansive. The palm wine had clearly taken effect.

  "You know," she said, leaning toward Jabari with a conspiratorial tone, "when I first saw your file, I thought you were too young, too inexperienced." Her words slurred slightly. "But today? Today you proved me wrong, Lieutenant."

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  "Thank you, ma'am," Jabari replied, slightly uncomfortable with her proximity Through the corner of his vision, he caught Ume sinking deeper into her chair, detaching herself from the conversation. "I was just doing my duty."

  "So modest!" She laughed, patting his arm. "Always so proper, so by-the-book." She turned to Laurent. "Didn't I tell you he was by-the-book?"

  Laurent's eyes twinkled with amusement. "You mentioned it once or twice, yes."

  "You need to loosen up," Celine continued, turning back to Jabari. "Life's too short, you know? Especially in our line of work." She raised her glass, nearly spilling its contents. "To loosening up!"

  Before Jabari could react, Celine leaned forward and pressed her lips against his in a clumsy kiss. The table fell silent as Jabari froze, completely blindsided by the unexpected gesture.

  When she finally pulled away, the entire table was staring. Jabari felt heat rising in his cheeks, unsure how to respond.

  Laurent broke the silence with a hearty laugh. "And there it is! The traditional Kimaris initiation. Celine gets three drinks in her, and suddenly every new recruit gets a welcome kiss!"

  "I do not!" Celine protestedby with a lopsided grin.

  "Oh, please!" Wilhelm chimed in. "You did the same to me at the New Year's gathering. And to Abaan before that. Poor man didn't know where to look for a week."

  "It's her way of breaking the ice," Seydou explained to Jabari with faux seriousness. "Life gets stressful in the field, and since her divorce, well... let's just say this is how Doctor Kamara blows off steam."

  Celine opened her mouth to retort, but suddenly her expression changed. Her face paled, and she clasped a hand over her mouth. "I don't feel—"

  She didn't finish the sentence before lurching forward, barely missing the table as she emptied the contents of her stomach onto the floor.

  Laurent and Wilhelm were on their feet instantly. "And that's our cue," Laurent said, helping Celine to her feet. "Come on, Doctor. Time to sleep it off."

  "I'm…f-f-fine," she mumbled, though she leaned heavily against Laurent's shoulder.

  "Of course you are, milady," Wilhelm said soothingly, supporting her other side. "Just a bit of fresh air first, then bed."

  As they guided her away, Laurent glanced back at Jabari. "Don't worry about it, Lieutenant. Celine works harder than anyone I know. Sometimes she plays just as hard."

  After they departed, the celebration continued around them, though Jabari found himself distracted, absently touching his lips. His first kiss had tasted of palm wine and regret. Not exactly the romantic milestone he'd imagined.

  "Are you alright, Jabari?" Ume asked, her head tilted in that curious way of hers.

  "Yeah…" he said, pushing back from the table. "Just need some air."

  As he stood, Jabari felt the Crystal fragment pulse gently in his pocket. It seemed to grow warmer against his thigh, as if responding to his emotions. He wondered if it was merely his imagination or something more.

  With a last glance at the revelry around him, Jabari slipped away from the celebration, the weight of his new responsibility suddenly far heavier than the small shard in his pocket.

  Osram Time: 23:45, February 23, 2295

  Lavatory 3, Outpost Tumi, Zeeman Crater, Far Side, Osram

  In the solitude of the bathroom, Jabari stared at his reflection in the mirror. The man who looked back at him seemed older somehow. He splashed water on his face, trying to process everything—the Moondust Crystal, the fallen Ologuns, Celine's unexpected kiss.

  Why hadn't it felt special? In stories, first kisses were supposed to be meaningful, transformative. This had just been awkward. Empty. He touched the Crystal fragment in his pocket, feeling its subtle warmth. The shard had transformed from a mission objective to a burden of responsibility in mere hours.

  With a sigh, he dried his face and exited the bathroom. The corridor was quieter than the Great Hall, the sounds of celebration muted by distance. As he turned the corner, he nearly collided with Ume, who was carrying a stack of dirty plates.

  "Oh! Sorry," he said, steadying her before the dishes could topple. "What are you doing with those?"

  "Cleaning up," she replied simply. "The festivities are winding down, and there was a significant mess to address."

  Jabari frowned. "You shouldn't be doing that alone. That's not what you're here for."

  "I don't mind," Ume said with a small shrug. "It gives me purpose. Something to contribute beyond my primary functions."

  "But you already contributed. You helped us find the Crystal fragment. You fought alongside us."

  Ume paused, considering his words. "Perhaps. But this feels natural. Useful in a different way." She hesitated. "Does it bother you that I want to help with such tasks?"

  Jabari scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "No, not bother exactly. I just don't want people treating you like... like you're just a machine."

  "I am a machine, Jabari," she said softly. "That is part of who I am."

  "You're more than that," he insisted. "You're... Ume."

  They stood in silence for a moment, the distant sounds of the celebration providing a gentle backdrop.

  "Here," Jabari finally said, taking half the plates from her stack. "Let me help. We can do it together."

  Ume's surprise was evident, but she didn't protest. They walked side by side to the kitchens, where Jabari rolled up his sleeves and began washing dishes while Ume dried them with efficient precision.

  "I must admit," Ume said after a while, "I didn't expect a Scarab Rider to be comfortable with kitchen duties."

  Jabari laughed. "Before I was a Scarab Rider, I was just a kid from Kumasi with chores like everyone else. My grandma Kisi didn't believe in anyone sitting idle while there was work to be done."

  "She sounds wise," Ume observed, carefully stacking the dried plates.

  "She was," Jabari's voice softened with memory. "She always said that true strength wasn't about how hard you could fight, but about how willing you were to help others when the fighting was done."

  "A profound philosophy," Ume nodded. "And one you clearly embody."

  Jabari felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the palm wine he'd consumed earlier.

  "About what happened at dinner," he began hesitantly. "With Celine and the Thousand Gods... I should have stepped in sooner."

  "Was my observation inappropriate?" Ume asked, genuine confusion in her voice. "I was merely stating historical facts."

  Jabari considered how to explain. "The Thousand Gods may have started…well…I don't know how they started."

  "Human religions are complex," Ume observed, handing him another plate. "But most of them contradict observable reality."

  Jabari chuckled. "Well, real or not, they're something to my people. Something sacred."

  "And what do you believe, Jabari?" Ume asked, her amber eyes fixed on him with genuine curiosity. "About the Thousand Gods? About the Crystal?"

  The question caught him off guard. What did he believe? He'd recited the prayers to Anansi, invocations to Shango, and made curses related to them since childhood, never questioning.

  "I believe..." he started slowly, "I don't know what I believe."

  "I've been processing what happened at dinner," Ume said, carefully placing a dried plate in the stack. "I believe I've identified the equation."

  "Equation?" Jabari asked, puzzled.

  "Yes. The social algorithm." Her fingers moved in small, precise gestures as if manipulating invisible data. "By providing accurate historical information about the Thousand Gods concept, I created a negative social impact value of approximately minus seventy-three percent. This damaged group cohesion and reduced my perceived utility to the team."

  Jabari stopped washing, turning to face her fully. "No, Ume. Human interactions aren't mathematical problems."

  "But they follow patterns," she insisted. "I've calculated that I need to demonstrate a positive utility value of at least eighty-five percent to offset the damage. Hence..." she gestured to the dishes they were cleaning.

  "So you're washing dishes to...improve your social standing? What?" Jabari couldn't keep the incredulity from his voice.

  "To prove I'm beneficial rather than harmful to team morale," she corrected. "Is my assessment incorrect?"

  Jabari set down the plate he was holding with more force than necessary. "People don't keep score like that."

  "But they do," Ume countered. "Not consciously, perhaps, but the behavioral patterns are consistent with—"

  "Stop," Jabari interrupted. "Just stop for a minute. This isn't about proving your worth."

  Ume went silent, her amber eyes fixed on him. Finally, she said, "My social integration subroutines are designed to optimize human comfort around me. If I cannot accomplish that, I risk being left behind." The last words came out almost vulnerable.

  And suddenly Jabari understood.

  "Is that what you're worried about?" he asked. "That we'll leave you behind?"

  "It would be the rational choice," she said, her voice steady despite the yellow lines now flashing in her eyes. "An android with deficient social calibration presents a liability in high-stress scenarios."

  "Too complicated." Jabari stepped closer, taking the towel from her hands. "We don't choose our companions based on some…I don't know…optimization algorithms? That what you call them?"

  "Then how do you choose?" The genuine confusion in her voice made his heart ache.

  "We choose based on how someone makes us feel." He hesitated, then added softly, "On connection."

  "Connection," she repeated, as if testing the word. "Is that what this is? Between us?"

  The question hung in the air, charged with possibilities neither had fully acknowledged. Jabari felt a flutter in his chest that had nothing to do with the Crystal fragment pulsing gently in his pocket.

  "I think so," he said finally. "Though I don't have some complex math equation to prove it."

  A small smile touched Ume's lips. "Perhaps some things exist beyond calculation."

  They finished the dishes in companionable silence. As they put away the last plate, their hands brushed briefly. Jabari felt a slight tingle where their skin connected.

  "When I first joined you, my primary directive was to locate the Crystal fragment because it was necessary for my survival. A logical imperative. But now..." she looked down at her hands, "I find myself concerned with your wellbeing, with the success of the Directorate's mission, with questions that have no bearing on my programming."

  "That sounds like being alive to me," Jabari said gently.

  "Do you believe that?" she met his gaze.

  The Crystal fragment pulsed softly in his pocket, as if responding to the moment.

  "Yeah." he said finally. "We should get some rest, though."

  Ume nodded. "Indeed. But for tonight, we have accomplished something." Her lips curved into a small smile. "I believe the human phrase is... 'we've earned it'?"

  Jabari couldn't help but smile in return. "Yeah. Yeah, we have."

  As they walked back toward their quarters, Jabari felt lighter than he had in days. The kiss in the Great Hall might not have been what he'd imagined, but this moment somehow felt more meaningful than any kiss could have been.